The Prey Between Two Predators
by walter-needz-luv-2
Summary: Leah is rescued by the Dixons. Where most women would run from such men, she feels right at home with them. They bleed danger and she just can't help but want to lick it up and be consumed by them. Rated M for Dixon language, sexual well everything, ,mentions of rape and gory death/massacre. Mac/OC/Daryl because what's better than Norman Reedus lovin' but two of them. No Slash.
1. Chapter 1

I must be crazy for starting another story when working on another multi-chapter story. Couldn't help myself though since my mind wouldn't stop switching and being bi-polar with ideas with the awesome Norman Reedus' characters. I just felt like The Walking Dead group would have more of an edge with someone like Mac on their team. Wanted to compare Daryl and Mac on their similarities and differences just for shits and giggles. I'm really surprised no one has written a crossover with these two characters since they have similar backgrounds. Oh well, love breaking this fandoms fanfic cherry.

As usual I don't own anything with The Walking Dead or Red Canyon. Just my OCs.

Please comment and tell me what ya'll think. Not too proud to beg for good ol' fashioned criticism.

* * *

Human beings are capable of many atrocities. They steal, lie, rape, murder, and destroy…just to name a few. Disgusting creatures; a group I am shamefully a part of, we are truly evil. That is the reason why I am surrounded by a herd of the infected. They are not human, therefore they are not evil. They cannot help but hunt the living and devour those unfortunate enough to be caught. They do not cause harm out of pleasure but of need for food; they are just following their new role as the top of the food chain. Therefore, they are the lesser evil when compared to the living.

Finishing my internal monologue, I am brought back to my current predicament. Stuck on top of an 18 wheeler with more than a dozen of the undead growling at me from below and nothing to protect myself other than my trusty bat and a backpack filled with meager supplies.

Now, I know what you're thinking, 'how'd this bitch end up on top of the big rig?' Well, this is what happens when you join a group with a couple of backstabbing friends and a cheating boyfriend of two years. Fuckers betrayed me, deciding to follow their new leader instead of listening to common sense. Oh well, they'll realize their mistake sooner or later if karma has anything to do with it. I ain't no saint, I have done enough crap to have my spot in hell warmed and ready for me, but even I wouldn't sacrifice one of mine to save my ass. It's my fault really, I knew they did not have what it took to survive this new desolate world- didn't have the back bone to toughen up and leave their belief that this was temporary. They'd rather live in oblivion instead of facing reality. I can only do so much for them. My loyalty is my worst and best quality, one that no doubt will be my down fall. I take care of what's mine even well before hell descended on Earth. I cannot change certain aspects of my personality no matter how negative they are. Some might call me possessive, maybe I am, I can't help if I don't like to share and I guard what's mine viciously. I can also be vindictive. So the instant they turned their backs on me, I no longer felt the need to protect them.

Fuck them.

The desperate growls of the deceased was not helping the woman's annoyance from her perch.

'I could just jump. Hit as much of these bastards as I can, and then take off running'. Knowing very well it was an idiotic plan, one that would lead to instant death, but she didn't have many options. Once again she is reminded of their betrayal.

'Fuckers.'

Contemplating her suicidal plan once again, she freezes as she hears the rumbling in the distance. Her heart seems to pound in sync with the quickly approaching motorcycle. She might not know shit squat about bikes, but she knew enough from sitting behind one to know what one sounds like. A monster of machinery is followed closely by a light blue, pick-up truck that's seen better days. Squinting, she can make out two occupants in the truck, along with the sole biker.

The man on the bike shoots the infected left and right in crazed hysteria, not detoured by the amount of his possible killers. The driver, in the now parked yet running truck, sits outside his window with a crossbow aimed at the deadly predators- ready to fire if it became too much for the biker in the leather vest to handle. The other figure in the passenger seat does not take any action, instead leans back and enjoys the show. Once the dead have been taken care of, the rider makes his way to the woman with a deep stride in a way to draw in the female's attention, silently claiming that he was all man.

"Whoo – wee, look whu' we got 'ere fellas. Must be my lucky day ta' run inta' a nice piece of ass such as ya', sugar tits." He smirks down at her with what he deemed a charming smile. His voice raspy as if he smoked a few packs a day most of his life. His aged face noticeably rough and weathered even from her distance, held soft wrinkles along his aquatic eyes and around his mouth. His flaws did not hide that he was a handsome man, not a pretty boy that belonged in a magazine, but unconventionally handsome; how real men were supposed to look. Taking in the rest of the man's appearance, she concluded that he fit the stereotypical bill of backwoods redneck down to a tee; she had no doubt his buddies also fit the profile.

Jumping off the vehicle, she draws closer to the man. Her mind warns her to be wary of such a man, but her gut feeling tells her to give him the benefit of the doubt.

'Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.' Her uncle's words of wisdom rang in her head. One of the only men in her life she could trust to never let her down.

"Hi. Thanks for that back there," she points in the direction of the littered bodies behind her, "thought I was a goner. Names Leah," sticking her hand out, she introduces herself to her rescuer. She could already tell he was a flirt at the way he eyed her and her stretched hand. He takes her hand, flips it, and kisses the back of it with chapped lips; never breaking eye contact. He wasn't bad looking, even for a man his age, then again…Leah has always been attracted to older men.

"Merle. So whu' is a young liddol thing like ya' doin' out 'ere on yer own?"

Before she could answer, the creaking of a rusty door is heard to her left; the passenger side is open and steps out a gruff looking man. Dressed in navy coveralls with the sleeves tied around his narrow waist, revealing a once white wifebeater- now stained with an assortment of engine oil, sweat, and most noticeably, blood. "Hey babe, whut chu doin' out here alone? Not safe for a perty girl to be on her own," licking his lips as his eyes wandered over her curves. His greyish- blue eyes meet her hazel ones; sharp with a hidden deviousness underneath the seemingly angelic hue caused a shiver down her spine. The small hairs behind her neck stood on end. This man was dangerous.

Beginning to feel ganged up, she tried to hide her fear, not knowing how they'd react at her weakness. Instinct told her to run; fighting would be moot. Just her luck, the driver decides to step out. A man, shockingly similar to Mr. Coveralls, made his way between Merle and the other man, but kept a good amount of distance from her.

"Let's go. Don' need no bitch slowin' us down," his southern drawl flowed out his thin lips. The other two men had their objections.

Mr. Dangerous came closer to her, his strut confident and with purpose.

"Why don' cha' come ride wit' us? Mac will take _very_ good care of ya'," emphasizing the 'very'. She noted that his drawl was different than his two counterpart's distinct Georgian accent, maybe Midwestern? Studying 'Mac' further, she could see how he could be so confident despite his attire. Even covered in filth, he was a handsome man, almost pretty. He beat her by a few years, but not enough for her disregard him. Soft wrinkles around his steely eyes, his soft pink lips formed into a smirk, delighted at her studious gaze over his form. She ignored it as she quickly took in the rest of him. His wide shoulders, thick arms, and height, in her opinion, added to his appeal.

Not wanting to enlarge his ego any further, she turns her attention to the nameless man. Physically, he was almost identical to Mac; they had to be twins no doubt, but their personalities were obviously different. While Mac exuded confidence and was vocally straight forward, this man was quiet and although equally attractive, he was self-conscious. He would be considered meek in a way, but that would be untrue as his eyes held a power to them. He was a man that did not take anyone's bullshit and wouldn't hesitate to take action when necessary. Just like Mac, he was also a force to be reckoned with, a silent predator.

He switches his weight from one foot to another, biting the skin on the side of his right thumb nervously. Unlike Mac and Merle, who are dressed in dark colors and rougher fabrics, this man wore more neutral colors and breathable clothes; beige cargo pants and a camouflage shirt with the sleeves cut off. His strong arms, most likely due to hard work than endless hours at a gym, flexed as he transferred his weight to his other side again. Her steady scrutiny on the uncomfortable man was interrupted by a snide voice to her left.

"Are ya' done eye fuckin' my cousin so we can git to the real thing," Mac did not like her attention on anyone else but him.

Merle's deep laugh could be heard to her right, clearly amused about the younger man's possessive nature. "Aw, Mac. Don' git jealous of Darleena. Not every day tha' a perty girl gives 'im attention." Merle points to the mortified man, "Tha's my baby brudder Daryl. He might come off as a pussy, but he 100 percent Dixon, so his dick will treat ya' real good." He winks at her as Daryl rolls his eyes and Mac scoffs irritably. "Just be gentle wit' 'im girlie, it's been a while for 'im."

'Who the fuck are these people?'

Despite their rough, crude, and outright perverted dispositions, Leah found herself amused by their actions and manners of speech. They did not hide their flaws and intentions; straight to the point, HONEST men.

Mac and Merle looked at her expectantly while Daryl looked at everything but her.

"What?"

Merle, the seemingly more outspoken of the three, asked if she wanted to tag along. Common sense screamed for her to run, to not go anywhere with these men, her instincts agreed, but…a small, yet the loudest part of her told her to go with the huge rednecks. Grabbing her pack and slinging her shot gun over her shoulder, she nods her head.

"Sure, what do I gotta' lose?"

Merle guffawed as Daryl shook his head already seeing her mistake, but it was Mac's 'cat caught the canary' smirk that had her doubting her decision momentarily.

'Oh, shit.'

* * *

They've been traveling together for almost three weeks. Three weeks with three men; gruff, sweaty men. Gruff, sweaty, muscly men.

'What the hell is in the Dixon genes?'

Leah's always been into older men, yeah, but the ones she dated were intellectual, clean cut men, that spoke of art and some philosophical bullshit. These Dixons were everything but clean cut, sure they were smart in their own ways, but they probably didn't give a rat's ass about a Monet painting or problems in foreign countries. No, they were good ol' boys, only worrying about matters concerning them and theirs. She had would never have given either a second thought if things were like they used to, eye candy maybe but not dating material.

'But what a sight.'

Merle was like the distant uncle everyone has, but never wanted to introduce your friends to, so creepy it's funny. He would call her derogatory terms and offer to 'release some excess stress', she would laugh it off. Merle was a pervert, but it was all in good fun for them. He had once told her in all seriousness that she was too young for him; finishing off with telling her that her 'Mexican pussy' would just give him heartburn anyways. That one had her laughing for hours. Daryl hardly said a word, but when he did it tended to matter so she made sure to listen. He was more of an observer than a talker; taking everything around him into consideration. He noticed the little things that many would over look just to use it for his benefit later. Lastly, there was Mac. Although he and Daryl could pass off as twins, he and Merle had more in common. Both were big flirts and were unashamed to speak their minds, no matter how racist, sexist, or psychotic they may be. Merle was an asshole, no one could deny that, but Mac…Mac was a monster. He had admitted to murder before all this shit as if it was a common hobby; he didn't need to say out loud that he had no qualms in doing it again, his eyes said it all. He never gave his reasons though. He might be a murderer, but one thing he shared with Daryl, was that he didn't do anything just for the hell of it. No, there was meaning behind all their actions, like everything they did in life must be planned and carefully executed. No pun intended. He and Daryl wore their feelings on their sleeves while Merle hid his behind a façade of tranquility. So whoever met their fate by his hand had probably deserved it and even if they didn't she strangely had no qualm with it. As long as she was safe then it didn't matter one bit in her opinion.

These men were danger and raw energy incarnate; a challenge against any opponent and deadly with a weapon. They all had a favored weapon. All being able to shoot a gun or rifle, Merle had taught them when they were young. Being an ex-marine made him an expert in automatic weapons, his specialty was in sharp shooting; a superior sniper. Merle would boast of Daryl's early kills as a child, the natural born hunter; his weapon of choice; a Horton 125 crossbow. While the brother's weapons of preference were more long distance, Mac was a badass with close range ones; his axes. He'd swing them like they were extensions of his limbs, cutting into the dead with ease. Leah tried to cut some firewood with one and after a few swings she gave up entirely; it really took a lot out of her. She wasn't petite, even at her short stature of 5'5; she weighed a good 130 plus pounds and was known to be able to hold her own in a bar brawl, so for her to find difficulty with one ax had her admiring the man's brute strength.

Her time with the Dixons was never boring and despite the constant come-ons, the random ass slaps, or prolonged, slight groping hugs (courtesy of Mac), she didn't feel uncomfortable in the slightest. If anything, she never felt safer. They've been camping deep in the woods, a random corpse dragging itself nearby from time to time, but other than that and the occasional fight between the men, it was fairly peaceful.

Not wanting to be a burden to her boys, she brought it upon herself to handle the cooking and cleaning. Sure it brought back the feminist movement a few decades back, but she enjoyed taking care of her new family as they did her. They would teach her basic survival skills, not liking the idea of her being defenseless in this new world. It would also help them in the long run to have another person back them up. If they weren't too tired, they'd each take turns teaching her to defend herself better with a weapon or hand to hand combat. 'Can never be too careful, liddol lady,' Merle would say. He was the first to bring up the subject of getting her ready to be prepared for the shitty future laid ahead of them. The Dixons were no fools; there was more danger out there than the dead.

"Now girlie, ya' know we would fight tooth an' nail ta' protect ya', but tha' don' mean we could be there fer ya' all the time. We need ta' toughen yer scrawny ass up." Merle laughs as he pats her back roughly, jerking her forward.

Merle would show her how to handle a gun for better results, and then he and Mac would help her with one on one fighting. She could throw a hard punch, but not all fights will end with a simple knockout. They had to prepare her for the worst case scenarios, if it were multiple opponents or how to take punches from a stronger opponent. She would have to use her small stature and speed to her advantage. When Daryl wasn't in one of his moods, he'd take her into the woods early in the morning and show her the fundamentals of hunting and tracking. She made sure to absorb everything they had to teach like a freakin' sponge. If ever the day came that they get separated, she had her three Dixons to thank for her survival.

"Ya' keep sharpening tha' knife, there won't be nuthin' left," she stares down at the bowie knife in her hand and realizes she was lost I thought, something you should never do when handling sharp objects. She sheepishly apologizes, "Sorry, Dare. Just thinkin' is all."

He grunts, used to her nickname for him, and continues to skin their dinner. She was an odd one, the men had noticed from their time with her. Not like other women they've know, she was in complete ease with them. She belonged with them; never judged them, but accepted what they did or said so naturally as if she's known them her whole life. It irritated the hunter, he didn't know how his brother and cousin felt about her nonchalance over their strong characters. They were the type of men branded 'bad men', no good, and ostracized from society due to their blood and paternity. Then comes this female, all sass and curves, putting up with Merle and Mac's flirtations and sexual propositions, hell she would throw some back at them. She didn't force him into a conversation or whined like most women and some men do, instead she surprised them by helping as much as she could and asking for lessons in gutting and skinning. She was a tough little thing. If he was honest with himself, he would say it was a turn on. He'd see his cousin show her how to throw a punch and envy how Mac's hands gripped her round hips to align her body, knowing he just wanted to rub himself against her succulent backside. She was very attractive; with her large breasts, round ass, and pretty face. Her kissable pouty lips, round cheeks, and big hazel eyes. God, those eyes. Hazel, almost golden, seemed to radiate sex through her thick eyelashes. Gorgeous woman like her wouldn't want anything with someone like no good Daryl Dixon; wouldn't want to call a man like him hers. Mac and Merle got all the women; they knew how to talk to the fairer sex, he just knew how to stand on the sidelines and accepting anyone desperate enough to fuck him. He was no virgin, by no means, but his few sexual conquests were with drunk and horny women behind a bar or the tailgate of his old Ford pick-up, Old Blue.

"Hey baby cousin, see ya' hoggin' my woman. Cain't have ya' stealin' her from me now can I?" Mac joked, but Daryl heard the underlining threat. Daryl knew of Mac's possessiveness of Leah, they all had, in one form or another. He ignored his cousin as he sat on Leah's other side.

"Is Daryl bullying ya' inta' bein' his slave, Lee?" Mac takes her right hand into his, rubbing circles on the back of hers. "I wouldn't make ya' work like this. I'd have ya' doin' something more useful…wouldn't even have to leave my tent". Leah giggles at his offer.

"Only Mac Dixon could make being a sex slave a possible occupation in this fucked up world." Setting the weapon down by her feet, she turns he hand around so Mac's much larger one laid in her palm. Rubbing it softly like he had, she scoots closer to him and whispers in his ear seductively. Her warm breath by his ear sent shivers down his body, his member made a small twitch.

"I'd love to baby," seeing his eyes bulge and jaw drop a bit, she couldn't help herself, "but...ya' gotta' ask Daryl if he's willing to share me." She pats Mac's thigh as she stood, winks at Daryl, and makes sure to put an extra swing in her hips as she walks away.

The two men are transfixed at her form as she sashays away.

'One helluva woman.' They both think as their sharp blues devour her form.

* * *

Two figures are weaving in between trees, one much larger than the other. The summer sun scorching, sweat pouring down their bodies, but neither is able to stop; the adrenaline coursing through them will not allow it. Daryl had spotted deer tracks near camp and decided it was the perfect opportunity to give Leah another hunting lesson. He didn't think it would matter if they didn't get the deer, it was just a practice- he could always pick up on the trail if need be.

"Ya' see these tracks girl?", he sees her nod, "belongs to a deer. Din't pass by here long as ya' can see by the prints steepness." Leah takes it all in, following Daryl as he follows a trail she wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for his teachings. Not much is said, silence was key in hunting, especially with corpses dragging about. She knew Daryl wasn't much of a talker, a true believer in actions speak louder than words; she just made sure to give more attention in his silent words.

They'd been in search of this deer for hours, a combination of running, walking, and would only pause for a water break or checking the changes in the trail. It was safe to say that they were tired. No complaints from her though, if going through all this led to her family eating hearty tonight then she would gladly run a few miles and sweat like a pig. It didn't hurt that her body has been firming up. Interrupting her vanity session, Daryl slows his pace; raising a finger to his mouth to signal her to keep as quiet as possible. A few yards away was a large buck grazing. She didn't know much about the animal or what to do next; she waited for Daryl's instruction. He steadily raises his trusty crossbow and in an instant the animal is stumbling to the ground with an arrow to the heart. The pair made their way to the buck, it hadn't died. Daryl unsheathes his bowie knife from its holster and slits the suffering animal's throat, thanking him for his sacrifice.

Leah loved that Daryl would thank his kills; he respected them, from the smallest squirrel to the largest deer. He was truly a child of nature.

"Alright Chief, now how we gonna' get this goliath back to camp?" Leah wasn't sure they could lug it back to camp before nightfall.

"First we gonna' gut and skin it. Can't 'ave them dead things make their way to camp if we dump all the guts near it. We gonna' bury it 'ere and take the skin an' meat back wit' us. Lighter load."

Seeing his point, she starts to dig a hole to bury its remains. Took them about an hour to have everything covered and ready to haul out. Daryl brought a tarp to drag the meat on and covered it with the pelt to keep away insects and dirt. The two hunters arrived to camp around midday, covered in blood and other extremities didn't keep the proud smirks off their faces.

"Well look at whu' my baby brudder an' our warrior princess dragged in", pleased at their spoils but couldn't help but tease Daryl, "me and Mac were worried somethin' 'appened ta ya'll. Were 'bout ta' look fer ya' two."

The hunters rolled their eyes simultaneously, used to the older man's teasing. Mac eyed Leah up and down. Seeing her standing proud soaked in blood called out something primal in him. She really was like a warrior, one he could call his own, not like he hadn't thought of her as such already.

"My, my, my, aren't you a sight for sore eyes". Coming up behind her, he grabs her hips and lowers his face to her neck, "you're making me love you." He slowly grinds his pelvis into her cheeks. He would lick the blood splattered on her neck if it were hers; he would give anything to have her under him as he bit into her smooth flesh, drawing blood and leaving his mark on his woman.

She can feel his excitement, hoping her own wasn't obvious. Looking up to see Merle grin at her just to Daryl had his head down trying not to make eye contact with her, this did not sit well with her. Mac's been more handsy as of late especially around Daryl, not like she's complaining; in fact she liked his attention. She just didn't like how Daryl reacted after; he would ignore her or avoided her as much as possible. It upset her when he would distance himself from her. Leah wasn't an idiot; she knew he and Mac wanted her. Her Dixons were possessive and primal, almost animalistic, so it didn't come to a surprise when those tendencies came out. Merle was also possessive, but he saw her more as a daughter or little sister than a lover, while Mac and Daryl saw her as a woman to call their own. Over protective, hardheaded, and temperamental; her boys were handfuls on their own, but they were her family. Still, she needed to set her boys straight.

"Thought ya' already did Mac, or was that just another ploy to get in my pants", she bends down to pick up the tarp they dropped, purposely rubbing her backside into his crotch, he groans at the friction. It was a dirty move, but she loved teasing Mac and testing to see how far she could go before he lost control. He was becoming braver with his flirtations, but she wasn't going to be the one to make the first move. If he wanted her, she was going to make him work for it.

* * *

With the help of Daryl, they dragged the deer closer to their makeshift table to prepare it for dinner. After properly seasoning the meat, Merle took over to make deer stew, gloating how no one could do it like him. Deciding to wash up, she grabs her soaps and heads to the pond nearby. Stripping out of her filthy clothes, she lowers herself into the water, not swimming far from her weapons. It wasn't the smartest idea to go anywhere unarmed. Hiding most of her body behind shrubbery along the waterline, she washes her hair with what was left of her strawberry scented shampoo. Leah was in bliss, there was so much dirt and grime she could handle; she was still a woman after all. As she's scrubbing her body, she hears a crunch a couple meters away. Ducking her head lower into the water, hiding from potential danger; she reaches for her crowbar.

"The fuck are ya' doin' woman!" came the booming voice of no other then Daryl Dixon. She sighed with relief then she realized their predicament. Sinking even further into the water for modesty's sake, she gives him a questioning stare. "I can be askin' ya' the same thing Dixon. I came to wash all the deer guts off and was enjoying myself 'til ya' started hollerin' like a damn banshee." She got him there. Leah finally noticed the pile of clothes and soap under his arm.

"See your finally gonna' wash all that shit off of ya'," she receives an indignant grunt as he makes his way back to camp. Leah was not going to let him go that easily, "Since you're here already Dare, why don't ya' come in. The pond is big enough for the both of us." Daryl stopped moving, hell she was sure he stopped breathing. Just when she thought he was going to ignore her suggestion and chicken out, he turns and slowly begins to undress.

'Holy, Mother…' her thought process ceased to exist as she was the sole witness to his striptease. Leah took in every angle and line of his body, starting from his handsome face to his wide shoulders, lean stomach with s sexy happy trail leading to…

"Fuck." The word came out softly, almost a sigh. She noticed the many scars that littered his chest and stomach; she was willing to bet her last chocolate bar that his back would look the same. It didn't matter to her. He was gorgeous in her eyes. She swore she saw a small smirk as he caught her gawking. She lowered her eyes, embarrassed for her less than subtle eye fucking. Hoping he didn't hear her blunder, she moves a bit from the shoreline so he could get in without feeling too uncomfortable with her close proximity.

'Baby steps Leah, he's not like Mac. You're gonna' have to be the aggressor here.'

She feels more than hears the inevitable splash as he enters the water. Knowing he was a mere 4 feet away from her, deliciously naked, had her reeling. How could these Dixon men have such an effect on her? Keeping her eyes from lingering on Mac and Daryl's forms has been exhausting and she has had enough wet dreams to write a book. She knew that what she felt for the two men was considered taboo especially from where she was raised. That world is gone though so succumbing to her fantasies wouldn't be such a hassle.

"See Daryl. Told ya it was big enough." She knew her words could be taken as an innuendo, but she needed to behave and have him comfortable with being in close proximity in the state they were in. They finished promptly and with no contact whatsoever. Receiving questioning stares when they made it to their camp. They weren't stupid. They knew Leah and Daryl bathed together, it was guessing if anything else transpired that had them curious. Mac of course did not like the thought of losing Leah to any man even if it was to kin. Merle just laughed, finding humor in the younger men's silent battle over a female's affections. Leah on the other hand did not mind her boy's actions. She had a lot at stake so she had to proceed with her plans delicately as possible or risk scaring them off and that was not an option.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: OMG guys. I'm SO sorry for the late update. I had promised someone after a request to keep up, that I would post within a weeks time. I'd like to apologize to them, they know who they are. I have been working on this story for months, but all these ideas just kept popping up and I had to write them down until I had an array of papers around my desk. So many scenes for different timelines for the story. Piecing them to actually flow has been a struggle but its worth it. I promise to never leave a author's note without a chapter. That is a promise I can keep. All I can say that I will follow the show somewhat, but will change a few things here and there.I love the plot of the show and all, but I also like to be creative. I will try to keep the characters in, well in character. SO thank you all for sticking with me and waiting so patiently. Hope you enjoy.

Plz critique as much as you can. Just to let you know I don't have a beta or anything. It's all me, the writer, editor, and smut machine (which will come soon).

Disclaimer: Don't own anything but the shirt on my back and my OC.

* * *

As the oldest and obviously most experienced in life, he took it upon himself to guide his small group, his family, and keep them from dying. Daryl, Mac, and even the small spic they found on the side of the road about a month ago, were his to protect. That girl was very interesting. Waltzing into their lives and handling well against the Dixon men's notorious strong personalities. What a spitfire that one is, thinking she can control not just one Dixon but two of them bastards. She doesn't know what she's in for. Merle laughs to himself, he couldn't wait for the show those three were going to give.

He wasn't an idiot; he could see the sexual tension between the three. Both Mac and Daryl were interested in the girl. One had no balls to make a move and the other was...well…Mac. It wasn't a secret that Mac was a dick, hell what Dixon man wasn't, but Mac was someone to worry about. He shakes his head. It's the end of the world and men were still fighting over pussy, now more than ever. They were going to have a problem when running into other survivors especially now that they had a woman with them. Thoughts of what could or would happen when the time comes had him thinking of how this new world was changing them and how far they would go to stay alive.

'Bring it on fuckers.'

* * *

Leah was still a little tense from her earlier encounter with Mac. He was becoming increasingly rougher and she started to notice the usual lust filled look in his eyes have become more crazed and slightly raged. No doubt Daryl was the cause of such hostility. She had made it her personal mission to get under Daryl's skin and slowly bring him out of his comfort zone and help him build a bit of confidence; giving him small hints that she would not reject him. Mac's jealousy was a plus for her though, shows his interest in her even if she already knew it. Still, she tried to keep to simple flirting even when he would try to seduce her and dammit if he wasn't succeeding. Not to mention the damn heat was not helping with her sexual frustration. There was no escaping the Georgian sun. She was melting. Her minimal clothing consisted of 3 pairs of jeans, a handful of panties and socks, a bra, and a couple of t-shirts. None would relieve her of the unforgivable heat. How those Dixon boys moved around like it didn't affect them baffled her. She was from Texas and it got just as hot as Georgia, but she always had the luxury of air conditioning. A sweating Leah was an unhappy Leah and at this point she would do whatever she could to freshen up since taking a dip in the pond was a no-go. Her boys had all gone out to do one thing or another and left her to herself in camp, but not without giving her strict orders to not step foot out of camp. She would have disregarded them if not for the meaningful looks the three threw at her; laughable if they weren't so serious. There was no way she could handle all three of their tempers.

She felt another sweat drop into her cleavage.

'To hell with this…'

She jumped out of Merle's cheap lawn chair and rushed into Daryl's tent. Her eyes scanned the area until she spotted the rolled up pouch hiding under his pillow. She knew exactly what was inside, having helped him care of its contents. She grabbed the best tool for the job; she was desperate. She practically skips back to her spot under the shade, having found salvation.

She takes the sharp bowie knife she makes to her thigh when a large calloused hand grabs her wrist and smacks the tool out of her palm.

"Whu' the fuck do ya doin' woman?!"

Mac's harsh voice had her trembling in fear. They had been traveling together for about a month and never had she seen such a menacing look from him. The usual pleasure she got when he would touch her did not surface. His grip on her wrist was painful and increased the longer she didn't answer him.

Her voice quivered, "I'm just so hot Mac." Her response was not what he expected, his anger subsiding but not fully gone as confusion took its place. His grip doesn't loosen. There would definitely be a bruise, not like he really cared. 'Bitch deserves it'. He was going to sneak up on her and hopefully get a good grope before his fucktard cousins got back and cock blocked him again. He was right behind her when he saw her raising Daryl's big ass knife to her thigh. 'Was the bitch tryin' to cut herself?'

"Fuck Mac, let go. You're hurting me!" Leah tries to get out of his grasp, but Mac was inhumanly strong. Another Dixon trait she has come to notice.

"The hell I will bitch." He brings his face closer to hers, "If ya wanted to git cut so bad, all ya had to do was ask." She knew he was serious after seeing the same lust hazed eyes. Leah wouldn't put it past Mac to be into some dirty kinks, but to be turned on by cutting her,…well, that was just…hot? 'Huh, guess you can learn something knew about yourself every day.'

Mac could practically smell the fear roll off her in waves but her obvious excitement was just as enticing. Licking his lips at the thought of making small incisions with his knife as she came around his dick had him harden. God Damn was she a freak. He didn't understand why she didn't just succumb to him and let him fuck her stupid. She clearly wanted to and he made it known to her time and time again that he was gladly up for it. If only his dimwit cousin would back off and let him enjoy his woman. He was snapped out of his thoughts by Leah's raised voice.

"Mac! I said let go. I wasn't doin' anything. Jus' gonna' cut my jeans into shorts."

"Whu's goin' on 'ere?" Mac sighed at Daryl's entrance. He scoffs. 'Of course he would show up to the rescue.'

"Nothin'. Jus' caught us at a bad time." Leah rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything further. Her wrist was throbbing and didn't feel like pushing Mac any more than she already has.

For the next fifteen minutes Leah got to work at cropping her jeans into suitable short shorts with Mac volunteering of course.

"Don' want it to come out crooked do ya Lee?" He snickers but she allows him to help because for one, it was too hot to argue and two, she enjoyed his large hands on her. She always had been a glutton for punishment.

Daryl watched as his cousin practically molested Leah. He had to wonder if that was how he and Leah would look like to anybody watching. He and Mac did look alike, with a few different details but similar nonetheless, so it wasn't difficult to picture him and Leah being as intimate. He felt himself twitch at the provocative images appearing in his mind of Leah allowing him to grip her smooth firm thighs, hovering so close to her round ass. What he would get to sink his teeth into those round globes. The familiar stirring in his lower belly was a sign that he needed to get his mind out of the gutter. Lowering his eyes and feeling ashamed for his wicked thoughts. If their female companion only knew what he thought of her, she would be disgusted. Leah doesn't want anything to do with him; she just liked to tease him, it's what she did. Her slight touches and hooded eyes from across the camp fire were just delusions his mind conjured up. No one wanted no-good Daryl Dixon.

Old defenses rose. He would not fall victim to some girl's games. 'Fuckin' cunt and 'er mind games. Let Mac 'ave a go at 'er. Nuthin' but trouble tha' broad 's anyways.' Despite his thoughts, he knew deep down he didn't want to give up on the woman. He wasn't in love with her or anything, nah that shit is for pussys. Dixons aint pussys. He was attracted to her, that he couldn't deny. What red blooded male could deny a full figured woman with a hot temper and exotic features?

"Ya know Mac, ya don't gotta be at eye level with my ass" Leah laughs as Mac gives her posterior a firm grab.

"Whu' I'm jus' makin' sure it's a firm fit. Don' wanna show off too much ass do ya? Not tha' I mind, but ya are in a camp full of men." He winks, as if he really cared about her modesty. If he had his way, she'd be walking around camp naked. Well, not camp, but his tent.

Daryl watches as the two go back and forth with their flirtation. He wished he could be that way with her without feeling the insecurity he has developed since childhood. He was brought out of his musing by Leah's question directed at him.

"What do ya think Dare, too short?" She turns so he could see the back view of her cut off shorts.

'A freebie to check out her backside? Fuck yeah.'

Not wanting to seem too excited he gives a nonchalant reply, "its ok," before resuming sharpening a stick for a replacement bolt.

'Just okay, Daryl?' Leah couldn't hide her disappointment. Feeling a bit self-conscious and a bit slutty after his roundabout response, Leah shrugs it off. She shouldn't let his indifference bother her so much or make her feel self-conscious, but it didn't make it hurt any less. She had her back to Mac so he did not see Leah's sullen look. Wrapping a heavy arm around her neck, he brings her closer to him.

"Don' worry 'bout 'im Leah. He wouldn't know what to do with a woman even if she landed naked on his lap an' wetter than a wetback's rear-end." He smirks down at Daryl.

He knew he shouldn't confront Mac, nothing ever ended well when they were at odds. But… he was tired of Mac's shit. He could only take so much ridicule and emasculation in front of Leah before enough was enough.

"Really Mac? Wasn't yer ol' man a border hopper?" He was satisfied when Mac's grin was wiped off his mug, but it only lasted a few moments.

"So?" Leah's voice raised, her earlier mood forgotten with racial slurs being thrown around their camp. "Did ya dumb fucks ever think that it's not nice to belittle someone's origins especially when they are right in front of ya?" They had forgotten of her Hispanic lineage.

Mac couldn't have planned it better himself. Leah was about to tear Daryl a new one. Soon she would be worked up and crawling into his cot. All he needed to do was lean back, relax, and see his socially awkward cousin dig himself into a deeper hole as usual. 'Damn. Wish I had a cold beer right about now', he was going to have to enjoy the show without. He sighs heavily at yet another thing he had taken for granted in the old world. He was startled out of his thoughts at the unexpected sound of Leah's giggles. Wasn't she bitching out his cousin? What the hell happened? Leah was practically on the floor, busting a gut from her laughter. What did he miss?

"Oh my god, Daryl. You shoulda' seen the look on your face. Fuckin' priceless." Merle had joined her laughing fit. He had to admit, Daryl looked spooked when the small woman turned her attention on him, but what really got him was Mac's look of surprise when he noticed Leah wasn't having a conniption over Daryl's racial slurs. "You can calm the fuck down Dixon. I'm not gonna' kick your ass." She wipes the small tears from her eyes. "Just watch your mouth around me next time. Don't wanna' hear that racist shit coming out of your pretty little mouth, k".

Mac couldn't believe it. She was supposed to blow her top, instead she's flirting and joking around with his backwoods cousin. Feeling a small, uncomfortable pang in his chest he heads to his tent.

"Hey. Goin' to sleep early Mac?" Her question had Merle's and Daryl's attention on him. He never turned in early or without one invite into his tent to Leah. 'Fukin' bitch never says yes.' "Got fuckin' heartburn or somethin'. See ya' assholes in the mornin'." He missed the worried glance Leah gave him as he entered his tent, but one Dixon didn't.

* * *

The next morning Leah noticed the camp was abnormally quiet. She could see Daryl gently cleaning his crossbow almost affectionately. The side of her mouth curved up slightly taking I the scene before her. "Do I gotta' worry about competition or are you just showing me what I've been missing?"

Used to her jokes about his care for his crossbow, he rolls his eyes, but couldn't hide the small tint in his cheeks. Seeing as he didn't take the bait, she finds a seat across from him to pick up one of his hunting knives laid on the tarp by their feet. She picks up one of his extra rags and starts to clean the knife carefully as possible. They sit in a comfortable silence, neither needing to fill the peace.

As they finish cleaning and maintaining their weapons, Leah's curiosity finally waned.

"So, where is everyone?" It wasn't odd for either man to leave for a questionable amount of hours, but seeing as neither took their bags nor water, she couldn't help but question the quieter Dixon. His reaction to her inquiry led to further questioning.

"How the fuck 'em I suppos' ta know? Ain't their goddamn keeper!" His anger shocked her. Not that it was unusual, but the fact that his eyes held a defensive gleam had her believing he wasn't being very honest with her. Instead of poking the bull, she raised her hands in mock surrender and decided to occupy herself with some chores to pass the time.

* * *

Daryl felt like an ass for yelling at her. She didn't deserve it, but he knew if he told her there would be drama and a whole lot of bullshit that he didn't feel up to dealing with. ' S'not like she won' figure it out later 'ny'ways', he thought. It was true; he also didn't want to be the one that told her, 'Rather 'ave 'er find out 'erself'. He knew what he was doing was right, but it still didn't help the guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Night came and still no sign of Merle or Mac returning. Having finished eating dinner that Daryl had caught, he ignored the questioning glances thrown his way by the female of the group. He will not budge; he will not say a word. And goddammit, he will not succumb to her or her she-devil ways. The sound of the fire crinkling in front of them rang loudly in his ears.

"Whu' the fuck do ya won' woman?!"

Leah held in her laughter and tried to keep a straight face. She knew she was irritating him and slowly bringing down his defences.

"What do ya mean, Daryl?"

He knew she was playing mind games with him, 'Trying to make me sing like a damn parakeet. Fuck No!' Instead of answering, he continued to ignore her. Pleading the fifth or some shit like that was the only option he had.

Leah sighs. The infamous Dixon stubbornness has revealed itself, the one that she has battled time and time again. 'We meet again, great foe'. It was clear that she wouldn't get a word out of Daryl, so she might as well give up for now and wait for the rest of the Dixon clan to return.

To his relief, Lead had given up her intimidations toward him.

'Bout time too, bitch was getting' on my last damn nerves'. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he enjoyed her attention, even if it was to get him to snitch. What did that make him?

* * *

A large calloused hand moved down her side, stirring her from sleep, making its way up her thin camisole she wore to bed. A familiar heat lies behind her length, warming her body in more ways than one as a deep groan is heard when it then smooth flesh of her right breast is discovered. No bra.

Leah's breath became heavier, anxious with a hint of trepidation of what this could lead to. Rubbing her backside to his growing erection earned her a masculine grunt as he squeezed her breast harshly, only to be released as he flipped her on her back.

She didn't get to see her night visitor, but guessing by the tuff of hair on his head, there were only two possibilities of who it could be, she wouldn't complain about either one. He ravaged her neck with sharp snips and opened mouth kisses. His forwardness led her to believe it was Mac, but the scent of whiskey was heavy in the air, so it could have been Daryl. The more she thought about it, the more reluctant she was to continue. She didn't want to be either man's drunken booty call. Placing her hands on his head as his kisses ran down to her collar bone, she slowed his actions; eliciting a whine from the man. He went back to feverishly kissing her chest, ignoring her insistence to not go any further. Her resistance was quickly crumbling, but eventually gave in, as his warm mouth reached the sensitive nipple his hand was earlier assaulting.

'Oh , God.'

She could FEEL his smirk around her breast. If any of her past boyfriends had been so cocky she would have booted them out of her bed, but not a fuckin' Dixon. He felt so damn good. She grabs the greasy tuff of hair and pulls, needing to do something besides purr like a damn cat from his ministration. He growls around her breast and nips her nipple as punishment. To her surprise, she moans loudly. He must have been just surprised, if not more from her reaction, since he paused for a few breaths.

Hold up.

Did she really enjoy that?

She never knew that she would be into biting, but then again that must have been why she has never been sexually satisfied with her past lovers. She was a kink, or at least suspected she was, curiosity to find out won her over.

"Do it again", she demanded breathlessly.

She hears him growl, obviously turned on by what she was allowing him to do. Leah softly sighs as he bites her slightly harder.

"Harder". He does. She can feel his excitement grow. She moves her body against him; he grunts and releases the now wet and swollen nipple. It's her turn to whine as she aches for him to touch her, clenching her thighs together to help soothe her need. As if reading her mind, he moves his hand down her body and into her panties; feeling the damp spot that he was responsible for.

She feels his breathe catch. No doubt from the obvious confirmation that she was enjoying their session. Without a warning he picks her upper body up and with one arm around her, he grabs a breast; molding it in his palm. The other hand returns inside her wet panties. His breath coming out shallower and flexes a finger at the bundle of nerves hidden in her soft folds. His clumsy movements made her think he was drunker than she previously thought. Just as she was getting frustrated with his teasing, he inserted a finger in her waiting heat. His fingers weren't remarkably long but their thickness made up for it.

Oh, did they make up for it.

He moved his fingers timidly, moving sporadically. His head hung by hers, his warm breathe hitting the back of her ear, one of her favorite erogenous zones. He worked her slowly as he ground his hips to her ass, his erection nestling in her cheeks. Dry humping has never felt so good.

Then he stops.

Before she could object his withdrawal, he reenters.

"Oh, shiiiite". She bites her lip from making any further noise. It was like his previous ministrations were just him studying her. He was playing her like a damn fiddle, hitting the spots that made her stomach clench and toes curl. Sweat began to build at her hairline. The feel of his stiff dick aligned at her rear, and his finger moving about in her heat was getting to be too much. Leah couldn't help but ride his fingers as she reaches her climax.

He inserts another finger.

"Fuck", she almost draws blood as she bit her lip harder. He curls his fingers in a 'come hither' motion, his hips gyrating against her. She was hanging over the edge and if he knew that or not, she did not know. Hell, she almost couldn't remember her own name. She just needed that extra push to…

"Come fer me girl. All over my fuckin' fingers", his gravelly voice demanded. Her pants signaled she was near and before he realized what he was doing, he harshly pinches her nipple and bites where her neck and shoulders meet.

That was all it took.

"Da Da Daryllll", she pulls his hair and scratches his forearm, grasping onto any plane of reality. He growls at her actions, but doesn't say a word, still high from the endorphins being force of her orgasm was so strong,it had pushed out his fingers.

Leah turns to her side and off his arm, not caring that her top was still rolled up, exposing her abdomen and breasts. She just felt too good.

"Good night, Daryl." She had whispered tiredly, not like she was going to get an answer if the soft snoring beside her was any consideration. A small thought snuck into her head before she fell to sleep, one that was important but at the moment didn't seem to matter.

'Oh well. Deal with it tomorrow'.

And with that, she was out.

* * *

I once again want to apologize to everyone who waited for another chapter. Like I said, I have not given up on this story. Too many ideas and scenes of what I want to go with this story have been written. Just a matter of piecing them together. Already working on chapter 3. Thank you for your patience. Hope ya'll like it. And just so ya'll know I'll NEVER post an author's note without a chapter.

Plz let me know if I should go on or stop counting my chickens.


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